Nature of a Man
by Charalampidis Gruber
Summary: Kenny was thrust into their group by unfortunate circumstance and he doesn't seem intent on staying. But as time slips by, Diola finds the only thing she wants is for him to be in her company for the rest of her days.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note:_

_I based this fanfiction off of the playthrough that felt the most "right" to me. In season one, Lee sided with Kenny most of the time and they had a strong bond. Lee killed Duck for Kenny. In season two, Clementine also tended to side with Kenny and in the end she allowed Kenny to kill Jane. When they got to Wellington, Clementine and AJ stayed and Kenny wandered off alone. So, try to keep these factors in mind while reading._

_On a side note, I've had this idea for a while. I finally sat down and started working on it because I was searching through this site and some others trying to find a Kenny/OC fic. (I know its weird but I'm partial to that sort of thing.) I couldn't find any at all. So, I decided to make one myself. I was also very interested in writing about Kenny post-season two. _

_I hope you enjoy this or at least get a laugh out of it if you find it terrible._

* * *

He arrived in the heart of winter. They left to get supplies before the storm grew worse and they returned with a stranger. The wind blasted snow into the house as her companions fought their way back in. He was slung between Collin and Topher's arms and possessed the limp qualities of a corpse about to turn. A untamed mass of dark grey hair fell about his face. His head bobbed as they dragged him across the carpet. With the front door closed, the chaos of the blizzard was left outside. She followed behind them as they carried him into the kitchen. Her room, her work space, the closest they had to a proper medical facility. The laid the stranger down on the kitchen table. His head lulls back and his damp hair falls away from his face.

He looks like a wild man. A bloody bandage is covering his left eye. The dirty wrappings around his head are coming loose. Frost clings to the strands of his salt and pepper beard. The angles and lines of his face are well defined. His large, hooked nose is his most prominent feature. His face isn't entirely unpleasant. If he didn't look like he was dead, she'd find him handsome. She has come across many broken people since the walkers came but she has never seen someone who looked as worn out as this man does.

"What happened?" Diola asks. "Who is this guy?"

Her words are laced with a thick Nigerian accent. Even after all these years it still hasn't left her plump lips. The two men are panting, desperately trying to catch their breath. Collin's freckled skin is more flushed with pink then usual. He runs his fingers through his silver laced ginger hair. The lines of his forehead are bunched together making his worry that much more apparent.

"We found him in the old supermarket," Collin explains. "He was trying to find shelter from the storm."

Diola can tell by the look in his icy blue eyes that the meeting must've been tense. Topher is cracking his typical smile. The boy is a mountain. Melting snow drips down his round sienna cheeks and catches in the stubble on his chin.

"Fucker nearly shot a hole right through me," Topher says.

Fay has not found the situation as amusing. The stout woman is built like a battering ram. Her thick black hair has shielded her face from the snow. Her plump, caramel hand still grips the pistol on her hip as she stares at their uninvited guest.

"I wanted to leave him," Fay says. "But this fucking pendejo insists we help him."

Collin scowls which isn't a flattering look for him since he has the face of a Neanderthal.

"Just look at him! He's half starved!" Collin says. "He would've died if we left him there!"

"And now we have to sit out this blizzard with an extra mouth to feed!" Fay growls.

Kayin's entrance into the kitchen goes unnoticed as their two leaders bicker. Her twin does not seem pleased with the new arrival either.

"Shut up!" Kayin says. "Why is there a dead man lying on our table?"

Her brother's voice could turn anyone's blood to ice. Kayin does not appear the sort to be dangerous. He is of a slender build and not much taller than her. His skin is smooth, dark and without flaw. Kayin was a pretty man but not a delicate one.

"His name is Kenny," Topher says. "After Fay got done having a screaming match with him, Collin convinced him to come back with us. He passed out on the way though."

Kayin's coal black eyes dart over their guest.

"Can he be trusted?" Kayin asks.

If Kayin had been the one to find this Kenny, he would not have gotten a chance to speak.

"It doesn't matter. We're not tossing a sick man out into a blizzard. End of story," Collin says.

"Then I have a lot of work to do," Diola says.

Kayin will confront her about this later. It is not often that she sides against him. She could've very easily refused to help Kenny but from the looks of things that action would've condemned him.

"Let us hope that your charity doesn't get us all killed, Collin," Kayin warns.

They'll bicker about this more still tonight but Diola is not in the mood for it.

"Take your bullshit out of my kitchen," Diola says. "Can somebody send Magda to me? She's hiding upstairs somewhere."

They file out of the kitchen like a bunch of grumpy children, Kayin is the last of them. He does not like to leave his sister alone with strangers. There is no way for Diola to reassure him. No matter what words she chose to say they would not quell her brother's over protective behavior. Their departure is like the storm itself blowing out of the kitchen. Diola is left with nothing but the candlelight and her unconscious patient.

She cannot see the blizzard raging outside through the boarded up window of the kitchen but she can still hear the cruel howl of the wind. She grabs a towel from the counter and folds it over a few times. She gingerly slides it underneath Kenny's head. The list of symptoms she needs to address continues to grow and she's concluded all this just from a glance. The concern that seems most dire is his body temperature and that eye of his. The cuts and bruises on his face can wait for now.

Her brown fingers tug on the zipper of his olive jacket. It was easier to undress strangers when she was wearing her mint green uniform. Those days are long gone though. It's not like she must undergo this very often but when she does it always leads to an awkward conversation. This one may turn out to be more difficult than any other she's had. A flush is clinging to her cheeks as she folds up his damp clothes. Surviving the apocalypse has been kind to his body in one way at least. Just because the world has come to an end doesn't mean she can't appreciate a well toned set of abs when she sees it. She sets his clothes by the door in anticipation for Magda's arrival.

The wooden door creaks as the teenage girl peers inside the kitchen. Her huge green eyes look over the scene fearfully.

"You need me, Diola?" Magda asks.

The girl is like a mouse, quiet and fragile. Diola does not turn her gaze away from her patient. She runs her fingers along his body and takes a mental note of every bruise and bulge that seems out of place.

"Drape his clothes by the fire," Diola says.

Magda pushes the brown strands of hair away from her square face.

"Are you going to need me for anything?" Magda asks.

Diola knows the teenager doesn't want anything to do with the half naked man lying on their kitchen table. The orange firelight creeping through the open door illuminates the curve of Diola's bald head and the sharp angle of her cheek bones. She flashes Magda a warm smile. It's a fake one but it will comfort her worried friend.

"It's all right," Diola says. "Just stay within earshot."

Magda snatches up his clothes and retreats. Diola can hear the sound of her companions quarreling over their discovery. They have learned out of habit to leave Diola alone when she must work with a patient. So for now the stress of his presence will be avoided. New arrivals always cause friction. He's lucky he passed out half way through all of this. Diola runs her fingers through his hair as she brushes it away from his face. His hair is in desperate need of brushing and a thin layer of filth is still clinging to his grey flesh. The only sign of life he possesses is the subtle rise and fall of his hairy chest as he breathes. She is grateful for his presence. The threat of the blizzard had been occupying her thoughts for most of the day.

As soon as those black clouds consumed the sky and the snow began to fall the fear set in. In the cold of winter they had nothing to fear of the walkers but with it came a whole slew of other concerns. Now she could focus on her patient and his immediate needs. She peels back the stiff bandage over his eye. Diola grits her teeth as she gingerly pulls away the filthy bandage. It's not the worst thing she's ever seen but it's not pretty. Somewhere beneath that swollen mass of crimson flesh is an eye, it probably is useless to him now. His socket must be in bad shape but there is no way for her to truly know.

She probes the swollen surface with her fingertips. Her touch is so gentle she can barely detect the surface of his skin. Diola feels along the curve where she suspects the bone of his eye socket should be.

"God damn it!" He shouts.

Kenny seizes Diola by the shoulders. Terror grips Diola's heart as she stares into the wide open eye of her patient.

"Who are you? Where am I?" He demands.

Her heart is hammering in her chest. Okay, it may have been a bit stupid to poke the sick man in the eye.

"It's all right," Diola coos. "Just calm down, you're fine. My name is Diola. I am—I was a nurse. I am with the group that found you."

The grimace on his face softens and is replaced with a look of confusion. He lets go of her. The pain from his touch is faint but it's enough for her to decide she never wants to make this man that angry ever again.

"What happened?" He asks.

He struggles to sit up but Diola pushes him back down on the table.

"You're very weak," Diola says. "My friends said you passed out on the way back to our house."

It seems to Diola that allowing her to paw him over is the last thing he wants to happen. Every muscle in his body has gone tense and he's watching her like a hawk. No one is quick to trust these days at least not the smart ones. She can hear the muffled sound of her brother calling her name. He always remains at full attention when Diola works, especially when its on a stranger.

"Everything's fine, Kayin," Diola hollers.

He tries to rise again. Apparently he does not have the same view of the situation that she does. He tries to push himself off the table and falls on his face. He groans and writhes on the linoleum floor. He may want to run for the hills but he won't last five minutes out in that blizzard with nothing but his underwear.

"Fuck" he gasps.

His legs are still quivering from the effort of trying to run.

"I told you, that you were a mess but did you listen? No, of course not," Diola scolds.

She wraps her slender arms around his broad torso and helps him climb back onto the table. She gingerly presses on his shoulders, trying to ease him back down but he pushes her hands away. His limbs still quake and his breaths become more desperate and hungry.

"Okay," Kenny growls. "I'll admit I'm feeling kind of shitty but that doesn't mean I trust you."

"That's fine. I don't trust you either. At least we're on the same page," Diola says.

His gaze is intense. It gives her chills. She will not allow him to observe the effect he has on her though. She has a job to do. Before the walkers came she dealt with drug addicts and mad men that were far worse than the likes of him on a daily basis. She didn't let them push her around either. She would treat them no matter what it took.

"Now, there's a blizzard raging outside so if you really think you're up to braving that wind and snow and cold then go right ahead," Diola says. "Me, personally, I'd stay in the nice warm house with the trained nurse practitioner. So are you going to let me bandage your eye or are you going to run off into certain death?"

His narrowed thick brows tell her he doesn't want anything to do with her but he doesn't have much a choice. He lets out a sigh.

"Fine, but I ain't laying down," He relents.

She nods with approval. Diola turns her back to him as she opens up the cabinet. It's a small symbol of trust she can show. It's her olive branch that she's extending to the stranger. She sets out her supplies, for once they seem well stocked up.

"My friends said your name is Kenny," Diola says.

She sets out the fresh bandages and the bottle of disinfectant on the counter.

"Yeah," he says.

A short answer but it'll do. She soaks a clean wash cloth with the disinfectant. The smell tingles in her nostrils. The scent always makes her feel sad. It reminds her of the life that she left behind and the possibility that it may never be back to that again.

"Well, Kenny, this is going to sting a bit," Diola says.

It's going to be a lot worse than that but she'd be a bad nurse if she told it like it was. She dabs his eye with the wash cloth. Kenny takes in a sharp breath and clenches his jaw.

"Where are you from, Kenny?" Diola asks.

Normally, she just asks her patients these things to distract them from the pain but she is genuinely curious about Kenny.

"Florida," Kenny says.

She continues to dab at his wound. His seem to grow tenser and tenser as he fights the discomfort.

"You got a pretty thick accent," Kenny says. "I'm guessing you're not from here."

That's always the first thing that gets pointed out to Diola. In the past it has been a mixed bag. Some have been horrifically xenophobic to her and others have just been polite. She's pleased that Kenny hasn't been outwardly racist. From his southern accent she assumed he possessed at least a tiny shred of prejudice.

"I grew up in Nigeria," Diola says. "That fact alone provides enough information about why I'm in America now."

It's more complicated than that. Nigeria wasn't the best place to be a woman, let alone a smart woman. That was only part of the reason her father sent Diola and Kayin off to Chicago. She sets aside the wash cloth and reaches for the gauze.

"Shit, ain't that in Africa? That's a long way to go," Kenny says.

She wraps the bandages around his head. They'll have to find something more permanent to protect his eye someday. Diola pictures him with an eye patch and finds herself smiling. She would prefer if all the strangers she had to patch up were as handsome as he was.

"Florida's a long way to come too," Diola says.

She would ask him what brought Kenny so far north but she knows better than that. People have endured a lot of suffering since the walkers came and digging up that mess is a bad idea. She snips off the excess gauze and secures the bandages with a pin. Kenny tries to mask the shivers that are wracking his body. There really is no point for him to try and hide his weakness from her. She's already well aware of his condition. Diola cracks open the door to the living room. The streak of warm light seems to cut right through the dim atmosphere of the kitchen. She cannot spy her other companions. She can hear a quiet discussion going on in one of the other rooms. At least it seems that things have settled down. Kayin's deep voice resonates through the thick walls. Magda is hunched over in front of the fireplace. She looks like a gargoyle perched on a rooftop.

"Magda?" She calls.

She watches the teenage girl slink over to her. Her stringy brown pony tail bounces as she comes to the door.

"Fetch me some blankets, will you?" Diola asks.

She peers over her shoulder. Kenny's half naked body is an agreeable sight but his hypothermia demands attention and that means getting him bundled up.

"Try to scrounge up some clothes for our guest too," Diola says.

Magda nods. She's twitchy and uneasy. It's a typical set of behaviors for her but the new arrival has her on edge. Diola shoos her away with her hand and closes the kitchen door. Kenny's gaze keeps flickering around the room. He's trying to get his bearings, something that anyone in his position should do.

"Are you hungry?" Diola asks.

He must be. She doesn't know how long he was wandering through the snow. Her companions know more about his situation than she does. At least she assumes this. It takes him a while to answer. Kenny's probably having an internal debate over whether or not to accept food from her.

"Yeah," Kenny admits.

More short answers. Diola can understand caution, distrust and even hostility while encountering someone new but Kenny seems to take that to the extreme. He already agreed to come here though. She isn't baffled by the hypocrisy. She's seen his type, displaying weakness is an act of intimacy that makes him uncomfortable. Diola digs through the cupboards. She takes out some canned spaghetti and and tears into the lid with the can opener. The door creaks as Magda creeps in again. Even with her arms overflowing with blankets, Magda still tries to sneak. The teenager sets down the bundle by the door, her eyes locked on Kenny the entire time.

"Thank you, Magda," Diola says.

She knows why Magda is overly cautious and she hopes Kenny's reasons for being that way aren't nearly as grim. She rips off the can lid and tosses it into the sink. Magda has vanished before she can turn around.

"Once she warms up to you she's not so bad," Diola says. "She wasn't always this way with strangers."

"We all got our reasons," Kenny says.

Diola isn't even remotely surprised that Kenny understands.

"You can get dressed," Diola says. "I hope those fit. I'm sorry I stripped you down. I had to get you out of those wet clothes."

Diola leans back against the counter and watches him pick through the bundled up pile of laundry. She feels guilty for the pleasure she takes in watching him dress. If Kayin knew how much she fancied this stranger already he'd throttle him. Kenny keeps an eye on her as he tugs on the pair of jeans. It's possible he may never let his guard down around her. The pants are a bit tight which isn't even the slightest bit problematic to Diola. Here she is marveling at some wandering redneck while a blizzard rages outside and death is knocking on their door. It's been a while since she's thought about men this way.

After being in survival mode for so long she sort of forgot that people had other uses than hunting and fighting. At least she hasn't lost every ounce of humanity that she possesses. Kenny eases himself back onto the table and Diola brings his dinner to him. Something flickers across his eyes when he stares at the canned spaghetti.

"This shit's for kids," Kenny says.

Diola nods.

"Yeah but it's got protein and you need that," Diola says. "Are you really in a position to complain?"

Kenny starts spooning the cold pasta into his mouth. It took her a while to get used to eating food like that cold. It's just second nature to the entire human race now. He starts out slowly until his ravenous hunger takes over and he starts wolfing down the food like an animal. Sauce and chunks of meat cling to his mustache. Basic instinct makes Diola reach to wipe it away without a second thought. Kenny grabs her by the wrist before she can come even close. The can clatters to the floor and spaghetti loops spill out on the tile. His grip is so tight that it takes her aback. She keeps her gaze locked on his intense brown eyes. His nostrils are flared and the red flush of anger has started to spread across his face.

"Kenny-" Diola says.

Her tone is even and firm.

"Let me go or I'll call the others in here," Diola says.

He doesn't want Kayin to find them like this. Her brother will cut him down with the swiftness of the wind.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Kenny," Diola says.

He releases her. Diola takes a few steps back. Keeping some distance from him is definitely a priority for her now.

"Sorry, but I don't believe you," Kenny says.

It became perfectly clear to Diola then that it was solely a force of nature that was keeping Kenny within in the confines of the house. It was his drive to keep on surviving that got him to go along with Collin and the others. If the circumstances had been different he would've avoided them.

"I suggest you get some rest," Diola says. "If you intend to leave after this storm passes then you will need your strength back."

He arrived in the heart of winter. It was as if the storm itself and had carried him in with the icy winds. The snow was engulfing the house with every passing hour. If Kenny had it his way he would've dug his way out with his bare hands. Diola suspected if she left him unattended he would do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

Another fit of coughing erupts from the kitchen. The deep, guttural sound echoes throughout the house. It started in the dead of night and as the dawn hours crept in, it only seemed to get worse. Diola is not surprised to see Kenny's condition decaying. She doesn't know how long he was struggling to get by out in the wilderness. His injuries and lack of proper nutrition have made him even more vulnerable to the frigid conditions. She sees Magda peek through the kitchen door again. At times, the girl drives her mad. She needs to watch Kenny while Diola meets with the others. A decision has to be made.

The five of them have gathered around the fireplace. The orange flames are twisting and flickering around the blackened logs. Everyone except Topher looks absolutely exhausted. It was a long night. Between the howling wind and Kenny's fits of coughing there was little peace to be found in the cramped house. White light streams in between the planks covering the windows. At least the storm has passed. The light is a welcome sign. They haven't been snowed in and that saves them the effort of having to dig themselves out.

"I'm guessing you've got bad news for us, Di," Collin says.

She's had experience delivering bad news. Anytime they lost a patient, Diola was always the one chosen to go tell the family. For some reason her coworkers thought she had a knack for it. There wasn't some secret to her method. There's no nice way to deliver a hard message. Sometimes holding a hand or giving a hug helps but that's not how the world works anymore. She stopped sugar coating things the day a dead patient sat up and ripped out her coworker's throat.

"My instincts tell me he has an infection," Diola says. "But his eye looks fine to me so I don't know where it came from."

She can't be confident in anything she says. She hasn't gone through the rigorous training that a doctor has and she certainly doesn't have the means to research his symptoms.

"Maybe he got bit," Fay says. "We should just pop him before he turns."

"That's a pile of shit and you know it," Collin snaps. "All the walkers are half frozen! Besides, Di didn't see any bites."

She didn't but she was somewhat distracted when she was examining him.

"Well, if he's sick with something else, it could spread to us," Kayin says. "Why should we risk it? Throw him out."

Collin is even more disgusted with her brother's comment than he was with Fay's. It's nothing uncommon. His face is already starting to flush with frustration.

"He's a human being! We can't just turn our backs on him!" Collin says. "If you were in his position, you wouldn't want some assholes doing that to you! It's not right!"

It still impresses Diola that Collin has managed to hold onto these base principles after all of this time. Morality is a construct that doesn't exist in this world anymore.

"And what does doing the right thing get you?" Kayin snaps. "What if we all get sick? What then? We'll be weak and if somebody nasty comes around, that's it, we're done for."

"At least if that happened I'd get to shoot something," Topher muses.

It's always just a game to him. He keeps things light at least. Their discussion is interrupted by another nasty bout of coughing. His gasps for breath are so loud that they smother out the crackling of the fire.

"He needs medicine," Diola says. "If we help him now, we have his trust and we could use another ally."

Diola knows if she poses this any other way she won't be able to persuade Fay or her brother. The reality of the situation is she just has a good feeling about him. It's whimsical and dangerous but Diola cannot ignore what her instincts are telling her. She wishes she was as practical as them. If she possessed even a fraction of her brother's ruthlessness, she wouldn't need any of them around. She'd be strong enough to survive on her own. That instinct to nurture and protect those in need still remains at her very core despite everything that they've been through. It will never go away and she's accepted that now.

"You want us to go out?" Fay asks. "Are you fucking serious right now? We don't know this guy. We don't owe him anything."

"I don't care! I'm bored! I'll go by myself if I have to," Topher says.

He's an idiot but Topher has gotten them out of some tight spots before and she respects him for that.

"I'll go," Collin says. "You shouldn't go out there by yourself, kid."

Fay just shakes her head. Her mass of hair bounces around her face.

"Fine, you idiots, go! I already risked my neck for this guy once! I'm not doing it again!" Fay says.

She thunders up the rickety stairs. A dramatic exit is typical for her. She doesn't handle defeat well despite how often it happens. Diola looks to Kayin. She already knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," Kayin says.

The only time Kayin goes out on the supply raids is when Diola goes with them. Where ever she goes, he goes. It was his practice since before the walkers came. It's a product of their upbringing. He was always looking out for her and Diola cannot imagine him changing anytime soon.

"It's fine, we can handle it," Collin says. "Just give me a list, Di, and we'll get you what you need."

She has no doubt that Collin is determined to save Kenny but if the pharmacy shelves are empty his resolve won't matter. Topher has already started to gather up their weapons. His blood lust was alarming to her at first but now it's an aspect of his that they try to exploit. She scrounges together paper and something to write with. A peeling piece of wallpaper and a dried out marker. It's difficult for her to list out all of the names that could possibly be found at the drug store. When she can dig no deeper into her memory she hands the list to Collin.

Topher is already bundled up for the run. He lives for these moments. It's all just an adventure for him. It's an attitude that has carried him far and she cannot hold that against him. The men struggle with the front door as they try to push it open. The snow and ice built up around the door frame has made it near impossible to open. Once they hear the crunching and cracking of the ice finally breaking, the door swings open. The silence that falls after their departure doesn't last long. Magda cries out from the kitchen before Diola has a chance to gather her thoughts again.

Kenny's hacking is erupting from the kitchen again. Kayin grabs her by the arm before she makes it to the door. The look in his eyes is one that she knows very well. He has looked at her that way since they were toddlers in Nigeria.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Kayin says.

She knows full well what she's doing. She's fighting to preserve the life of her patient and it was a duty she swore to perform nearly fifteen years ago. He's not asking about her medical skill though. He's questioning her decision to help Kenny.

"Helping those that need it is the one thing I know how to do best, brother," Diola says.

She tears her arm out of his grip and pushes her way into the kitchen. Kenny is doubled over the side of the table. As soon as Magda lays eyes on her she bolts. Diola has been trying to pass down her knowledge to her. It's been unsuccessful. She's too skittish for her to get a proper chance to apply the lessons. Diola grabs one of the water canteens and rushes to Kenny's side. His face is still too pale for her liking and now thick globs of sweat are running down the bridge of his nose. She holds the canteen to his lips. Water dribbles down his beard as he takes long, desperate gulps. He pushes the water away as another round of coughing overtakes him. This time it's less violent but the reprieve won't last for long.

Kenny rolls onto his back. He takes in deep, slow breathes. Every time he breathes an ungodly rattling sound creeps out of his throat.

"I—I didn't mean to upset the kid," Kenny gasps.

Nobody truly intends to rile up Magda, it just sort of happens. Diola never knew her before the walkers came. But their first meeting was enough for Diola to understand why Magda was the way she is now.

"She'll be fine," Diola says. "Now you, on the other hand, are not doing so well."

She presses the back of her hand to his forehead and mutters a curse.

"You don't sound too happy," Kenny says.

She isn't but when Topher and Collin return she will be in a much better mood. Diola starts to brush away the clumps of hair that are plastered to his sweaty forehead.

"You have a fever now," Diola says.

She cannot explain her determination to preserve his life. The need is strong and she cannot ignore it no matter how much she knows she should.

"I don't know if you noticed but I've been through worse," Kenny says.

He cracks a smile and it catches her off guard. It was only last night that he seemed like a bear trapped in a cage. She does find his remark amusing. Kenny looks like he's been through the ringer. The lines of his face tell a story of sorrow.

"Well that's the right attitude," Diola says. "Keep that up and you'll be back on your feet in no time."

The sooner Kenny is healthy the sooner all this arguing will die down. It's a constant problem. It never goes away fully but there are times when it's more bearable.

"Sounded to me like you're one of the few who actually wants that to happen," Kenny says.

It never occurred to her that he could've listened to the exchange that went on in front of the fireplace. It's an awkward statement to make but she likes that he's bringing it out into the light of day.

"I can imagine it's not pleasant to listen while others debate over whether or not you have the right to live," Diola says. "I could tell you they're all good people but what difference would it make? You don't really have a reason to trust my word yet."

Kenny licks his lips. The delicate skin is broken and peeling. He needs fluids and a cold compress. She reaches for the canteen. He tilts his head up and she brings the rim to his lips.

"They are good people though," Diola says. "Collin sees goodness in everyone up until they do something to prove otherwise. Fay lives in the now. She only sees your immediate threat and worth which is why she's so—abrasive. She just sees a sick man eating her food and giving nothing back."

Kenny coughs and water starts to spill out of the side of his mouth. She wipes away the dribbles with her thumb. The contact with his skin reminds her that she'd intended to avoid touching him again. It's a hard promise to keep when he's in such bad shape. He rolls onto his side as another wave of coughing comes on. When the coughing subsides he curses under his breath.

"Topher and Collin went to get you medicine," Diola says.

It's as much of a reassurance as she can give him. She rather that he not die by the hands of her companions but she's well aware that she's not strong to stop all of them.

"Yeah but Rambo Junior didn't seem too interested in doing me an actual favor he just wants to blow shit up," Kenny says.

Diola giggles and a smile flickers across Kenny's face.

"I may have to start calling him that now," Diola says.

Topher would love it too. She can see his face in her mind, his head held high beaming with approval. She gets to her feet and sets out to make the laziest cold compress she has ever constructed. Some of the others might throw a fit over her wasting precious water on this but she'd feel guilty if she denied him this small comfort.

"Mind keeping a secret for me, Kenny?" Diola says.

She glances over her shoulder as she folds up the threadbare washcloth.

"You're not going to molest me are you? That's what molesters say to people before they do their molesting," Kenny says.

She covers her mouth to smother the laughter. It's a horrible joke, if it actually is. She's not entirely sure that he meant it as something humorous. Kenny's likely to be genuinely concerned about this. She takes a deep breath to calm herself and carefully pours some water onto the cloth. The less she wastes, the less guilty she'll feel about this.

"Don't tell the others I'm wasting this much water on you," Diola says.

She wrings it out over the canteen bottle, trying to catch every last drop she can.

"Who am I gonna tell? It's not like anyone talks to me except you. Even that girl won't say a damn word to me," Kenny says.

Diola crosses the room. Her shoes squeak on the tile as she returns to his side. She lays the damp cloth across his forehead.

"Magda rarely says much, not even to me," Diola explains.

She smoothes out the wrinkles of the cloth with her fingers .

"You guys are close?" Kenny asks.

Everyone living in this new world has topics that leave them feeling drained. Magda is hers but she cannot explain what is driving this need for her to tell him everything. He's still just a stranger. He couldn't possibly care. Kenny could just be probing the inner workings of their group to find weaknesses to exploit.

"We didn't meet until after—all of this happened," Diola says.

She remembers how the inner city streets of Chicago were. The roads clogged with cars, people were looting, gunshots echoed off of the industrial buildings. Kayin was gripping her hand so tightly. They had been running for so long. Her feet were throbbing and her legs felt like they were on fire. Her scrubs were coated in blood. Kayin's partner, Robert, was struggling to keep up with them. She will never forget that hellish sound. That noise of pure terror that echoed out of that narrow alley. The shrill cry of utter despair and pain that rang out in the chaos like an air raid siren. Kayin kept running and they did not turn back until they heard Robert's shouts.

She couldn't watch. She still feels ashamed that she had to look away. That was Kayin's first kill. He and Robert beat a man they never met into a pulp. She remembers watching the blood oozing across the ground like a toxic sludge. It didn't seem real. She'd seen so much blood over the course of her career but never like this. She'd never seen it spilled in such a brutal way. Magda couldn't have been more than thirteen then. She had watched the world around her go up in flames and this person, just an ordinary man, used that horror to violate her in the worst way imaginable.

"She was being raped," Diola says. "Kayin and his boyfriend saved her."

Recalling that day fills her with an uneasy feeling. She hasn't even spoken of that incident with the others. It is not Diola's right to tell that story. There's a shame in sharing this with Kenny but speaking these words has brought her a relief that she did not expect.

"Jesus Christ," Kenny says.

He's quite obviously shocked and disgusted. No words exist in any tongue to properly express the evil that Magda was subjected to that day.

"They killed that man," Diola says.

Kenny tilts his head to face her. Looking into his gaze, she can see the same rage within him that she felt that day.

"I knew a little girl—" Kenny says. "And if somebody had done that to her—I would've killed the son of a bitch too."

"Where is she now?" Diola asks.

She regrets the question as soon as she poses it. She may be willing to spill her guts to him due to some mysterious force she cannot explain but that doesn't mean he is.

"I'm sorry," Diola says. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Her swift addition isn't enough to ease her mind. She doesn't want to provoke him with her carelessness. It isn't fair.

"It's all right," Kenny says. "She's safe now. That's all that matters."

He has to look away from her after that. He stares up at the ceiling and the dusty lamp dangling from the cracked plaster. It is a period of silence that doesn't feel awkward to her. It just feels right. They're both taking a moment to stuff back down the twisted emotions that the discussion tore out of them. Saying these things to Kenny seemed so easy and she's not so sure she has a problem with it.

"So, now I've given you more secrets to keep," Diola says. "And the best part is I have no idea why."

He starts to cough again. It's a short bout but it seems to be overdue. She holds the canteen to his lips again. His prominent Adam's apple bobs as he gulps it down. Diola is torn in his presence. He needs to rest but she doesn't want to leave. It's been so long since they encountered someone new, let alone someone she could feel this comfortable with. It's a dangerous comfort that she is painfully aware of.

"You should rest. I'll leave you be," Diola says.

Kenny reaches for her. His fingertips brush against the sleeve of her coat weakly. The gesture is a drastic change from what occurred the night before. His dark gaze is pleading with her to stay and Diola dislikes how much of an influence its having over her.

"Stay," Kenny says. "At least until I fall asleep."

He has brought another smile out of her again. She may have to smother him if he does so again. She pulls up the rickety old chair in the corner. It's all that's left of the set from the kitchen. The group broke it down for firewood as soon as they found this little house. She leans back in the chair. Its too hard for her to stay comfortable for long.

"Fine but don't make me staple your eyes shut, Kenny, get some sleep," Diola teases.

"Yes ma'am," He grumbles.

* * *

Diola's eyes shoot open. She cannot recall when she drifted off to sleep in the rigid chair. The pain in her back tells her it was a while ago. Kenny is thrashing about on the table like a beast with it's foot caught in a trap. He's kicked the blankets off of himself into a crumpled heap at his feet. Tortured whimpers escape from his dry lips and he mumbles words that Diola cannot make out. Through the haze of grogginess, she reaches for him. She isn't thinking clearly. She's just following a course of action that seems natural.

"Kenny," Diola coos as her fingers tap his arm.

Sweat is pouring down his face. Diola feels herself breaking free of that fog now. She latches onto Kenny's arm and shakes him.

"Kenny! Kenny, wake up!" Diola says.

He grabs her, yanking Diola from the chair. Her sneakers slip on the tile as she desperately tries to regain her footing. She fears her bones will snap if he keeps this hold on her much longer.

"Sarita!" Kenny shouts. "I've got you-I've-"

His own cries thrust him back into a state of consciousness. He looks at Diola in horror. She's shaking from the rush of adrenaline. As soon as he lets her go, Diola staggers backwards until her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

"I'm sorry," Kenny says.

The door to the kitchen bursts open. The flimsy wood cracks as it slams into the wall. Kayin's lithe figure stands in the doorway. The orange light of the fire behind him makes Kayin look like a the rage radiating off of him is an actual tangible substance. Her brother starts for Kenny. Diola side steps in front of him. He will not push her away. Kayin will never lay a hand on his sister.

"Be calm," Diola says. "Everything's fine. He just had a nightmare."

Kayin's eyes dart between Kenny and Diola. She tries to regain her composure. It was a troubling way to wake from her nap but advertising her fear will only make this situation worse. Kayin fixates his gaze on Kenny. His eyes narrow. Kenny has tread into dangerous territory. Her brother will be keeping close tabs on him from now on.

"I'm sorry," Kenny says. "I didn't hurt her, I swear, man."

Kayin's cold eyes flicker back to Diola. They have been able to say so many words with just an exchange of glances. It's the connection that she has only been able to share with her twin. She barely nods her head and Kayin relaxes.

"Do you wish me to stay, Diola?" Kayin asks.

He respects her too much to force her under his supervision.

"No, I'm fine. You can go," Diola assures.

He flashes one last glare at Kenny.

"I will be near," Kayin says.

It's less of a reassurance for her and more of a warning for Kenny. Her brother slinks out of the room like a lion that has been denied a kill. She gently presses her weight into the door until it's closed. The barely audible click of the latch is the only sound to penetrate the heavy silence. It takes her a moment before she feels strong enough to face Kenny.

She believes that he didn't intend to hurt her. The regret is apparent on his face. He can barely look her in the eye when she turns around. In the tranquility following the outburst, she's realized what has just happened. She saw it on rare occasions from war veterans or abuse victims that came into the hospital. Since the walkers came she has seen it countless times. Broken people crying out in the night as they relive their torment in a mercilessly vivid dreamscape. It's just one symptom, if something that common can even be called a symptom anymore. It's become a normalcy and that troubles her.

Diola keeps her distance from him. Her back is straight and her chin tilted up. Her fingers laced together, pink palms pressed against her stomach. Kenny pushes himself onto his side. His stringy grey hair falls into his face. He stares at the floor. His gaze is so intent that she thinks a slew of memories is assaulting her patient in the aftermath of his nightmare.

"Are you all right?" Diola asks.

It is not a struggle for her to sound soothing. It has always come naturally to her.

"I should be asking you that," Kenny says.

He speaks in a tone that she has yet to hear from him. It's laced with a deep sadness and the weight of guilt. Diola keeps her back pressed against the door. She dislikes the fact that she's afraid to approach him.

"I'm fine, Kenny, you don't need to worry about me," Diola says.

If the house had been full, if Collin and Topher had been here, this could've been so much worse for him. Fay is too busy smoldering to care about an outburst or perhaps she's too used to Kayin always running to Diola's rescue that she doesn't bother anymore.

"It won't happen again," Kenny says. "It's just this damn fever getting to me."

Diola knows he can't keep that promise. He's broken. She's certain of that now. It's sad to realize but not surprising. They can't be that far apart in age but he looks as if he has lived twice as many lifetimes as she has. He's seen things. Horrible things. So has she but whatever he has encountered must've been worse. The weight of it is crushing him. He's a crippled man that still manages to keep stumbling forward despite the pain.

She could ask about this Sarita but Diola already feels she's pried too much today. She asked one question too many. She remembers the sadness the washed over him when she asked about that little girl. And the pain he endured during the nightmare makes her think that his wounds run deep. Tearing them open will do him no good. Kenny watches her. He seems on edge, expecting her to say something to him.

Diola forces a smile. It's a talent of her's to put on a facade of warmth and kindness in order to bring comfort to others.

"Once that medicine gets here, you'll be fine," Diola lies.

She has no vows of honesty to uphold. These are the end times and people need to take their small comforts where they can find them. Feeding him a farce will do him no harm but she still feels guilt over it. Her words seem to lift a weight off of him, if only the slightest. Kenny opens his mouth to speak but only another fit of coughing ensues.

Diola approaches him. Her footfalls make no sound as she goes to him. Her hand hesitates a moment before it finally reaches forward and gently strokes his back. His body heaves as the hacking grows more intense. The warmth of his body radiates into her hand. He lets out a deep sigh when the bout finally comes to an end.

"It will all pass eventually, Kenny," Diola says.


End file.
